#Zavala x OC

[batdiangelo]

🃏: Assign as many characters and OCs as you can their Destiny Class and Subclass. Bonus points if you can list their favorite exotics (Weapons AND armor)

🃏:WILD CARD!

I fucking love this question.

Fair warning, I am going to yap and ramble. I've been given the okay to merge hyperfixations and I WILL be taking this seriously.

It's gonna be unnecessarily long, and I will be using Destiny Resources to accurately assign these guys their:

Classes

Sub-classes

Exotics they would use (Weapons and armor ofc)

What they chose for race (Human, Awoken, Exo)

Dress-tiny style (also known as Transmog)

Ghost Shells

Playstyle

The resources in question are Destiny Item Manager, Destiny 2 Companion app, Bray-Tech, Light.gg etc.

Also, If you want more Destiny x PJO Headcanons, PLEASE ASK. I love the game sm and I love PJO so much. I wanna YAP.

We're gonna go through the 7, Nico, Will, Reyna for Canon Characters, then for OCs, Damien, Grayson, Marcus, Sona!AJ, Sona!Zenix (@ripofwillsolace) and Sona!Ace (another friend of mine; they don't have tumblr.)

Keep in mind that in my little head, Camp Half-Blood has a destiny 2 Clan called Demigods of Light.

okay, now that that's out of the way, I wanna warn you (again) this is going to be LONG. you will get some bonus headcanons too, if I can think of some for the character; as well as some overall headcanons at the end; as a treat for reading this Monster of a post.

Percy:

I feel like he's a hunter; and I feel like, to compensate for there not being a water sub-class, he's either void, stasis(it's basically ice, that's a form of water), or arc.

As for exotics, I think he'd use Gjallarhorn simply for the fact it's goated, and it's chaotic.

For exotic armor, I see him using Wormhusk or Knucklehead radar, for their perks.

He'd be an awoken, because he thinks it's cool.

literally no other reason. Thinks they're awesome.

As for Shaders/Transmog(I call it Dresstiny hehe) he's not your typical superblack hunter. He's very BLUE. I can see him being dark blue though, or a soft, in between. Sometimes he'll go shiny, blinding

He's ether got the generalist Ghost shell on with a simple blue shader, or one of those beach themed ones. I can definitely see him using Buoy Trap for a ghost shell, because it's a little shark! I can also see him using Hyrofoil because it's a boat!!

In terms of play style, He's here to have fun and fuck around. He's a demon in PvP, He's done insane strats to survive in PvE, and He's definitely the type to avoid raids if he can help it.

BONUS HEADCANON: Percy was so excited for Season of Plunder, and was extremely disappointed with how bungie handled Pirates. He did enjoy being a space pirate and playing the new activity. He loved the pirate themed names (SCUR-V was his favorite).

Another season he was excited for was season of the Deep. He LOVED asa.

Annabeth:

She's master of all classes and subclasses- I can totally picture her spending time learning the strengths and weaknesses of each class before deciding what to main.

Her main definitely ends up being Warlock, and for her Subclass, she definitely floats between Solar, Void and Prismatic.

Her builds are entirely built for her own strengths with in the game. I can see her using Gravaiton Lance or Vexcaliber AND she's not above running div. she will if she has to.

For armor, I can see her liking Controverse hold, Nezarac's sin, or Felwinter's helm.

I can see her going with Human, and trying to make her character look like her best she can.

unfortunately they don't have the best customization screen but she tries her best.

For shaders, she's either getting all the best dressed commendations or she's matching Percy's chaotic nature, because she loves seeing him laugh at her ability to out do his very BLUE hunter.

Her Ghost is her baby, she named her Ghost June. June has two shells. Her typical shell is The Nine Lives shell(It looks like a little cat) the secondary one is worn only during the holidays, and it's the Confectionery Shell. (for those who don't know, That shell looks like a gingerbread house.)

For Playstyle, She's also fucking cracked at PvP, insanely strategic with PvE, and she's a raid sherpa for the Clan. She will be studying those raid mechanics like it's this weeks capture the flag battle plans.

BONUS: Annabeth found the My Name Is Byf youtube channel and fell down the rabbit hole of Destiny Lore. She loves the story so much. She felt soooo bad when Cayde-6 died, when Amanda died, etc. She unfortunately knew that they were fighting a war, and war isn't won without loss.

She actually teared up during Final shape. (IFYKYK.)

Jason:

Okay. This seems a little too on the nose but. Arc Titan. He found his niche and he stuck to it, in my head. He's way too good at the punch shit and survive tactics.

He likely has an alt Hunter that's Solar.

Born to be a hunter, forced to be a titan type of guy.

for those who don't know titans, to me at least, are very soldier like, and don't question the Vanguard. Same goes for Warlocks, except they know when and how to question the authority of the Vanguard. Hunters, on the other hand, are free spirits. they don't work for the Vanguard if they can help it. The former hunter vanguard, Cayde-6, while he loved his job, felt trapped in the tower. He wanted to be in the fields, running with no clear goal.

I feel that's Jason, in a sense. Trapped in his role as Praetor, yearning to go out and run wild. Hunter calls to him, but He goes with Titan because it's what he's used to.

I feel like he also somewhat uses solar, as a titan. and for that his exotics are definitely Lorely Splendor or Curiass of the falling star.

As for weapons, I feel like he uses Witherhoard, or Dead man's tale. He feels like a grenade launcher kinda dude.

I can see him going for Human too!

Just thinks it's simple and at first glance when starting to play didn't know what an awoken was or an exo so he stuck with human.

He is the type to entirely focus on bulking up so to speak so he's one of those W I D E titans you see in the tower. He found a shader he likes and refuses to take it off (New Age Black Armory. Same Jason, Same.)

Jason's ghost shell is simple I think. No Love Lost Shell, and yes. He matches it with Leo.

His playstyle is punch. He's a titan, He plays to his strengths! no but seriously, He's similar to annabeth, he's a Raid Sherpa, he's decently good at PvP and he's good at PvE. One of the few, extremely rare Gambit enjoyers.

When he's on his hunter, His PvP skills get scary good. He's insane, i fear.

Piper:

ohhh She's slaying I fear. Hunter, Prismatic or void.

She tried titan, and told Jason and Leo it was too bulky and hard to play. She tried warlock and thought it was cool, but She really liked the nimbleness of a Hunter.

Her exotic armor pieces are definitely Sixth Coyote, or Orpheus Rig.

for weapons, I can see her using Still Hunt and absolutely loving it from the moment she got it. in fact, she's always got a sniper equipped, I feel like she'd be so good with them.

I can also see her using Rat King; for the meme but also because it's actually a decent weapon, I'll die on that hill.

She's also Awoken, and she secretly simps for Mara sov and Petra Venj.

simple as that, and I can totally validate her love for those ladies they are very pretty.

Her Ghost matches annie's; because why not. She loves the little cat shell.

She's your typical hunter, in terms of shaders and style. Although her, Jason and Leo do tend to match their styles. Bestieism, your honor.

I feel like Piper's play-style depends on who she's with. She adapts herself to other's, and will play support if necessary- although she rarely does.

BONUS: She fell down the lore rabbit hole with annabeth. She also is a master at taking screenshots/recordings.

Leo:

OKAY. Leo is interesting to me.

not because I can't figure him out, but because he's simply...strange. He's definitely a master of all classes.

I feel like he sees the exohumans and just. "I can do that but better"

and spends more time off the game recreating Clarity and Clovis's science with that Modern-Day Demigod flair than anything.

That being said, he only uses solar.

Prob rocks Gjally with Percy. Ace of Spades on his hunter(Likely his most played class.)

armor, he prob uses something that doesn't help his sub-class, like ahkmanhara's spine or whatever. I can also see him using Shards of Galenor if he needs to actually think about what he's doing.

HE'S AN EXO.

THEY'RE LITERALLY ADVANCED ROBOTS.

THEY'RE SO COOL.

He loves it so much

His ghost matches Jason's, it's the No Love Lost Shell.

His dress-tiny is abysmal yet it somehow matches Piper and Jason.

when playing with them, he plays his warlock, and he rounds out the team perfectly- titan, hunter, warlock.

He's also a sherpa, but mostly for Vanguard stuff; like grandmasters. He also drags people through dungeons. Him and Percy LOVE Grasp of Avarice and troll new players with the traps.

Overall, I don't see him playing much unless asked to by his friends. He's the type to only log in if his friends are online (Real tho)

Frank:

OH. he's also a titan, send tweet.

Specifically, Void Titan. pretty purple bubble super, to be EXACT.

He doesn't have much time to learn the skill set for other subclasses so he stuck to this and he doesn't regret it.

His exotic armor piece is Saint-14's helm The boost it gives for the super he prefers is crazy helpful, as the perk gives blindness to anyone who enters the "Ward of Dawn" bubble (look at me using the proper names for things)

Weapon exotic is a bow. It's his thing irl and surprisingly in games too. He either rocks Trinity Ghoul or Verglas Curve.

Another Awoken.

Thinks the Awoken lore is really cool

As Praetor he has very little time to actually play, so sadly he probably has poor dresstiny skills. He's probably basic with his colors but, like Jason, leans into the big shoulders and wideness Titan's have.

His ghost shell is the Hareball shell. It looks like a bunny. He thinks its cool and Hazel finds it adorable.

His playstyle is adaptable to the people he's playing with; although you can catch him in the lead during raids with Annabeth and Jason; helping new players with their loadouts and explaining things if the new players don't understand.

despite not having time to play, He's a raid/dungeon sherpa. He loves the Duality, and Spire of the Watcher.

Hazel:

sorry, in my head she doesn't play. She likes to watch Frank play.

this isn't because she's from the 40s or anything, I just don't think a looter-shooter game would be something she would enjoy.

if she did play, she would be a prismatic Warlock.

probably use Sunbracers

Heartshadow because it's a cool sword.

She's also a human, she didn't understand what awoken or exo were when making a character

she's not into these games, in my head. Sorry gang!

Nico:

He TOTALLY leans into the emo hunter aesthetic.

Void, all the way. He's taking this way to seriously I fear.

I think Nico would use Orpheus's rig ONLY because Reyna told him it would help his build, and he totally agrees.

as for weapons? Cerberus+1. If I remember correctly it's a cracked as FUCK gun and, well, why wouldn't the son of Hades use a gun that's named after his dad's dog?

He's also an exo, simply because he thought it was interesting.

not because he wanted to match Cayde.

He didn't find cayde relatable, shhhh. (he totally did)

His Dresstiny is just. superblack shader + that skull helm from season of the haunted. oh and Cayde's cloak; He was so angry when Cadye died.

He's got either the Clicker Ghost shell because he thinks it looks cool, or the Egregore shell. Aesthetic.

his playstyle is insane- PvP and dungeons are his main things and he secretly trains new players to be able to hold their own in PvP against people like Percy or Annabeth.

BONUS HEADCANON: He watched a few lore videos during season of the haunted and got really into learning about the history within the world of destiny (Gardener vs Winnower, the witness, etc) and will have long conversations with Annabeth over these topics.

Will:

he's the ultimate support. He thrives with it; tbh

by that I mean he's a Warlock running well of Radiance. Yknow, the healing super. It's a solar super.

He uses sunbracers for exotic armor.

as for weapons, he uses sunshot, or Trinity Ghoul

I can see him being an exo aswell.

Star Wars fan. he wanted to be a droid.

His dresstiny is kinda peak ngl. He's bright and shiny in all the best ways.

His ghost shell is either Predator sun shell or M3-D1 Shell (this one reminds him of Star Wars)

playstyle is literally throw grenades, shoot bow and heal. He's got the healing part down pat- his timing with popping a well is scary good. typically people pop them at the start of the damage phase but he waits until the perfect moment.

he's gotten yelled at a few times for that, but hey, they avoided a wipe because he waited so whos really in trouble here?

He tries his hardest to match Nico's play-style sometimes but he's not on his level yet. Nico helps and teaches him tho!

Reyna:

So, she's another character I don't see enjoying the game. 1; because she's never near technology long enough to play and 2; she's had her fill of fighting and war.

that being said. She DOES enjoy helping Nico

She researches different builds and weapon loadouts for him while she's with the hunters.

sends him guides, articles with tips, whatever she can find.

The day Final Shape came out, she texted him "Kick the witness's ass for me, Di Angelo."

And Nico compiled.

OCS TIME!

Damien:

Hunter, all the way.

He spends sooo much time as a Hunter, he feels he can relate to their whole philosophy to a degree.

for subclass, I feel like he uses all, but mainly sticks to Strand or Prismatic.

Damien absolutely LOVES Ergo Sum; the new exotic sword.

He also loves any exotic hand-canon he can get his hands on. his top three are Ace of Spades, Hawkmoon, and Thorn

Armor Wise, he's rocking Wormhusk or Sixth Coyote.

He's an awoken. Wanted to be an exo, but wanted to balance the team when he plays with Jason and Leo.

he loves those boys.

In terms of Transmog, he's rocking the same shader as Jason, and he's got the memory of cayde cloak.

His ghost shell is def one that no one uses anymore. like the destroyed last city shell from vanilla d2. either that one OR he uses E99 shell, or the Empathetic shell.

basically, an egg, a heart or a fucked up broken shell.

His playstyle mirrors Percy.

those two, when they play together... oh boy

LOUD shouting, cheering, whatnot as they hold a 14 game long win streak over the new players.

Overall, he probably fucks around alot too.

Def eager edges ppl into walls during raids, just absolute menace.

Grayson:

He's another Titan.

Solar or Arc ONLY.

Lorely Splendor or Curiass of the falling star for armor exotics. He's very attached to them, tbh

For weapons, Gjallarhorn. won't stop using it.

Human, for simplicity.

He will be the guy to try and thundercrash everything.

He's simply a titan in every regard.

meaning, He's got the most titan transmog ever

BIG shoulders.

probably uses the watermelon shader un-ironically

AJ despises that shader.

His ghost shell is the Empathetic one, to match Damien.

they both have them set to the pinkest shader they can find

it's their thing. They are brothers, your honor.

His playstyle literally screams titan.

he punches cursed thrall and screebs.

why? because he CAN.

gods, it's a mess when playing pve with him but DAMNIT if he isn't good at pvp.

slays, really.

Marcus:

so he's a warlock

He's a teacher, I'm sorry, he's gotta be one

Prismatic, or Void. Refuses to run solar. Doesn't wanna be that Hephaestus kid that runs Solar.

For exotics? nezarac's sin, or controverse hold. SORRY but they're good for void, which is what I see him using majority of the time.

Weapons wise, he's swapping around alot but he like Graviton Lance or Ergo sum and tends to favor them.

Also an exo.

Sorry, all Hephaestus kids would be exos.

Clovis Bray would be a Hephaestus kid. off topic but it's true

Transmog is peak.

probably spends sooo much time getting bounties from ada-1 for synth weaves to unlock ordainments.

He probs uses the generalist shell. he's basic. SORRY BRO.

either that or the Descrated shell. he thought it was cool.

He's better at the game than AJ

his playstyle is perfected

He honestly has had to help AJ with campaigns and stuff because he's that good.

but don't put him in PvP

he sucks.

majorly.

SONA!AJ:

Cracks knuckles.

so. AJ is me, he's my SONA. soooo

Void Warlock, Strand Hunter, Solar Titan.

He mains Warlock

Nezerac's sin ONLY for armor. (try and take that from my UNDEAD BODY)

Ergo sum or Graviton Lance, but also...Gjallarhorn. he's basic!

ALL THREE ARE EXOS.

sorry, but they literally are the coolest.

his style is also peak (tooting my own horn here)

His warlock is his favorite ngl.

He use the Final Shell on his warlock, The Halcyon Shell on his Titan and the Clicker shell on his hunter.

He's unhinged in terms of playstyle.

screams at the game to listen to him as he does stupid shit.

"I'm winning- ope- I DIED, DAMNIT."

He's decent at PvP

loves raids, but hates asking people to Raid.

his favorite raid is Deep stone Crypt.

SONA!Zee:

alright.

He's a warlock.

I can def see him trying to play other classes, but goes back to Warlock for the healing rift.

Solar or Prismatic, I think.

He's a support type, when running solar.

Sunbracers for armor.

Crimson for his weapon

Exo human

he listened to AJ, Marcus AND Leo rant about how cool they were and decided to join the club

his transmog is a mess. Sorry Zee!

He doesn't match; AJ tries to help tho.

His ghost shell is the Lady-like shell.

It's a lady-bug. :D

okay. He's southern. you put him in a looter-shooter he's gonna be somewhat decent.

also he's an apollo kid.

built in perfect aim.

AJ's jealous, somewhat.

Sona!Ace:

Okay So, while I don't think they'd play much, I think they'd be a Hunter

two reasons. relatable philosophy and STAB.

Prismatic or Void, because Pretty colors.

Orpheus's rig, because several people told them to use it; and because it matched their outfit.

I can see them using Trinity ghoul for an exotic weapon.

an awoken, because they could make their skin pink.

they are an aphrodite kid. their transmog is the best here I fear.

bright and colorful, just like their ghost.

The heart-powered ghost shell, it fits them, so much.

they're dying the most but they're having a blast.

probably only playing to bully sona!AJ

They like bullying him.

RANDOM HEADCANONS:

Raids are literally the best with these guys and the clan.

They can play the new 12 player activity easily without needing to matchmake.

monthly clan crucible matches go hard.

Annabeth and piper take people through trials of Osiris.

Annabeth's kinda a sweat during those times but piper soothes the scared players and helps them in a nicer tone

Jason tries to run clan wide gambit matches but no one really likes it.

They have won a world's first raid race as a clan.

It was either Vow of the Disciple or Root of Nightmares.

Annabeth led the raid, she was SO proud of herself when they won the raid race.

at weekly reset annabeth sends messages to the discord server asking if anyone wants help with anything.

Percy always takes her up on it.

he loves playing with her.

AJ and Marcus play alot together too.

AJ calls it their required brotherly bonding time.

overall the whole clan has a lot of fun together.

Destiny is a great way for them to just forget about demigod shit and have fun

many of them are more invested in the story than they realize

Nico got a little emotional with Cayde's arc in Final Shape

Annabeth and AJ cried together after playing. Zavala's whole arc + the fact Lance Reddick wasn't able to close the book on Zavala before he passed really hit for them.

Percy LOVES Eva Levante. she reminds him of his mom.

AJ is so glad to have friends to play one of his favorite games with

Zee, AJ and Ace make up a fireteam.

those three have made lil guardian ocs together and talked headcanons for their fireteam.

FIN.

Thanks for reading this absolute beast of a post, I am SO SORRY it's long and took forever to make, but I genuinely put a lot of thought into it and took my time so it would make sense. I hope you enjoy it anon <3

[space-bean-uwu]

This is the response to an ask from @artistinyou2 asking for a Zavala x OC oneshot from Season Of The Lost. I hope you enjoy!

"Hey Zaddy." A soft robotic voice sounds, the Exo covering Zavala's eyes from behind him. He sighs, turning around to look the girl in her eyes. 

"Hello, hunter." A smile crosses his face. She was dressed in mostly the normal garb- leather armor, swirling cape, even so far as the normal sniper rifle on her back. The major difference, though, was that there was a giant blueberry on her head. The rest of her garb matched, of course, being shades of bright blue and purple rather than its normal shades. Her ghost, floating next to her, had a little paper cut-out looking spider costume on. Zavala chuckles at the ensemble, holding his hand out for Euphi-5's ghost, taking a closer look at them before turning his attention back to her.

 "Did you make this yourself?"

 "I did! Yeah." You could hear the beaming smile in her voice, and she bounced on her toes a bit in excitement. 

"Thank you for joining the festival with me, it really means a lot, Zavala." 

"Of course, Euphi. I wouldn't miss it." He says, starting to guide her in a walk around the tower, keeping in mind her low vision from the paper-mache helmet. They walked for a while, talking about random stuff within their days, what had happened between strikes and schedule mishaps. Euphi-5 enjoyed the sound of Zavalas voice, and continued to ask him questions about his work, and the current festival, things around the tower while she was away. He always responded to her questions enthusiastically, explaining things she didn't understand or process, and reminding her when there were things he couldn't tell her. After a while of walking in the multicolored engram lights, she'd gotten tired of the noise of the city, and had asked to go somewhere quiet. Zavala agrees, rerouting the trek toward his office. When they get to the elevator, he smiles down at her.

"I enjoy your company, Hunter."

 "I enjoy yours too,- more than you know." She says, following him to his office as they reached the bottom floor. Euphi-5 steels herself for the impounding conversation, her internal fans working overdrive at the thought. She takes the mask off instinctively, not wanting another item to overheat her, or worse, catch fire.

"That's actually what I wanted to talk about." She says, sitting in one of the chairs in his office as the door closed behind them. 

"Oh?" Zavala asks, sitting in the chair next to her. 

"Yeah, actually I uh.. I like you a lot. You're really funny, and kind, and you treat me like an equal, rather than talk down to me. Not to mention that you're really handsome." A shy smile covers her face by the end of it, and she looks down, unsure of what reaction she might get. Zavala simply cups her chin, leading her to look into his eyes.

 "I think all the same for you, little blueberry." He teases, before leaning in to give her a gentle kiss on the lips. 

"I, uh- wow." She says, a wide smile spreading across her face. 

"Wow?" He chuckles. 

"Wow." She repeats, bringing her arms up around his neck and pulling him in again.

[telestoapologist]

Ask game

4.

5.

6.

hallowed be thy ween🔞 // 𝗰𝘂𝗿𝗿𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗹𝘆 𝗮𝗰𝗰𝗲𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴!

4. What general Spicy Headcanons do you have?

Immaru knows plenty of dirty shit, but I think if you got him in bed for a more "heartfelt" experience, he'd be a deer in the headlights or just really uncomfortable. I also don't picture him being the real vocal type unless you do something that really gets to him.

Safiyah definitely made Zavala moan and whimper. She could absolutely turn that man into a puddle at her touch if she wanted.

Kridis's affections for Eramis were probably one-sided and I can imagine she probably shamefully whacked off to her once or twice.

5. Are your Guardians Sexually active?

Canonically, Reef's more sexually active than Sundog tbh (which isn't a lot tbh); Sunny because, again, they're worried about attachments, as well as their own performances. I can't help but wonder if their work keeps them too busy, too, to where they're just too burnt out or sad some of the time sdfgsgfd.

6. Do you have any pairings or ships, both Canon or not?

dude i'm ngl i love all the canon pairings. they're sooo good. here's the non-canon ships i also like though:

drifteris / driftspider / drifthool

eris/ikora

osiris/rohan

saint/misraaks

joldren (? i think this one is implied to be canon but i'm also not sure)

young wolf x crow

candal

eris/drifter/elsie polycule

glint/immaru

ghost/fynch

calus/young wolf warlock

amanda/niik

crode

my friends ocs x their pookies

me x caiatllllll :3

[hakurines]

a little oc (Dorotea Zavala) X Canon (alva lorenz)

[babygirlgarrus7]

Destiny Masterlist

Masterlist

OC

Cayde-6 x Phoenix

XReader

Cayde-6 x Reader

Dust and Echos

Ikora x Reader

Zavala x Reader

Drifter x Reader

Crow x Reader

Lord Shaxx x Reader

Eris x Reader

Amanda x Reader

Mara x Reader

[bioticgoddess]

Ask and ye shall receive. I am not sorry.

Summary: Saint and Osiris have had one wedding, yes. But that was ages ago and before everything went sideways and they both got...lost. Now, reunited and with Osiris both conscious and himself, Saint has suggested they have a vow renewal ceremony or "Second wedding" with their friends.

Pairing: Osiris x Saint-14, but you knew that.

Characters: Ikora, Shaxx, Zavala, Young Wolf, Crow, Merlin (OC Ghost), Maestro (my brother's OC Ghost)

--

"I wore a smart suit at our first wedding," Saint muses, flipping through the book of fabrics Eva has sent him. "It was black and the jacket had a pattern embroidered that mirrored my accolades. Where father found it, he never shared." Another swatch-made-page turned, a cream color with a sunshine yellow lace overlay. It was pretty but would clash with anything Osiris wore and that was something he would not do. He smiled to himself, "If I was dashing, Osiris looked like a king. His jacket was longer, almost a tuxedo, meant to call phoenix wind to mind when he moved."

Ikora grinned from her seat, she and Shaxx had been asked to assist. The Warlock Vanguard wondered, "And this time?"

Matter-of-fact he stated, "I wish to be a princess."

"A what," Shaxx choked on his tea.

"I said, what I said," the other Titan beamed. He was unfazed by his friend's reaction. It wasn't every day that the Hero of Six Fronts said he wanted to be a princess.

The Warlock Vanguard's grin grew and she beamed. She'd been the one, at his request, to talk to Eva about this endeavor. The one-time seamstress had balked at fist but then, hooked by an idea, had loaded her down with several fabric and and dress design books. She instructed her to bring them to Saint without delay.

Now, sipping her tea, Ikora asked, "You said you had a design already picked out."

"mmm...yes," he set the fabrics aside, making a mental note to return to them afterward. "This one." Gingerly he picked up a glossy booklet and handed it to Ikora. There was a bookmark between two pages and what looked like sticky notes placed next to a particular dress design.

Saint watched expectantly as she studied the image. "It is too much?"

"No," Shaxx had stood, voice dead serious. He stretched until his spine cracked, and moved to where he could see the gown over Ikora's shoulder. Then, smile wide and voice filled with encouraging approval, "It's perfect! You'll look absolutely wonderful old friend!"

--

It took Eva some time and several secret meetings with the Titan to get everything just so. Waist cinched and colors matched to the ribbons on his chest plate (and exo frame). She'd said he could wear the suit jacket as well if he wanted, it was in fine condition and had only needed some minor mending. She'd insisted he have it with him since the city was cold during Crimson Days -when the Vow Renewal/Wedding 2.0 was set to take place.

The armor made Saint look far bulkier than normal and it had been a surprise to see how svelte he was without it. Saint was still a large man, tall and broad, but closer in size to Zavala than Eva had expected. The Titans, as a group, were all big men and women and theys, built like walls and towers.

He blushed as much as Exos could. "This feels like the first one," he whispered, "Exciting, frightening, and right all at once." With thoughtful investigation, he found the pocket's she'd sewn in. "I see why these are so popular."

"How do you like it?" She asked, smoothing the ribbons that laced up the back of the bodice.

Saint spun, the skirt flaring out around him in her living room. He beamed, "Like a Princess. Like Osiris will be en rapt."

Eva beamed back him. It was possibly her finest work since Crow's Cloak. Not even Osiris' suit - tucked away in a separate room - could compare to the simple elegance of the dress and the joy of the man wearing it.

--

Osiris paced nervously.

The ceremony wasn't extravagant, they'd both agreed that would be too much. This was for their friends as much as for themselves. to that end, taking over the garden near the market had almost been too much. He wasn't ready for crowds but half the guardians that worked with Young Wolf - who was Saint's Person of Honor - were keeping the curious away. That meant a melange of titans, warlocks, and hunters had taken up postings throughout the plaza. For a second he spied the ghost Merlin zipping back up to an apartment balcony.

Clapping him on the shoulder as he took his place at front as their officiant, Zavala whispered, "Remember to breathe old man."

"Ha. Ha." He chuffed back, stopping on his assigned side of the altar. Swallowing, he whispered, "I wasn't so nervous when we had our first wedding you know. The city was only recently established then and the Speaker officiated. He had a pair of fancy jackets made for us and a suit for Saint. Felwinter gave me the one I wore. There was a chuppa and we stomped on a glass and during the celebrations several of our friends and students conspired to hoist us up on chairs. I'd seen recordings of Jewish Weddings from before the collapse but never expected it to be such an expression of joy. Or to be so afraid I'd split my skull open."

Nodding, the Titan Vanguard added, "I have a ketubah. Gepetto sent a scan to Targe."

Osiris chuckled. "Of course he -"

Music cut him off.

It was soft and came from everywhere.

The ghosts, likely led by little Maestro, were projecting it. The thrum of strings and trill of wind instruments poured over the space like a babbling creek. Everyone turned to face the little archway that separated the garden and market plazas. One of their ushers opened the doors. Young Wolf and Crow walked down the aisle, side by side and trying not to grin like excited children. Once they reached Zavala and Osiris, the took their posts on either side behind where the grooms would be. Crow had agreed to share Best Person duties with Ikora (she had insisted and Osiris found he was quite fond of the young Hunter).

Speaking of her, Ikora escorted Shaxx down the aisle. She flashed him a grin that Osiris narrowed his eyes at affectionate before taking her post beside Crow. Saint stepped beside Young Wolf and adjusted the small band of lavender wound around the horn of his helmet.

The music dropped.

It became ephemerally.

Everyone stared at the far door, which had been closed behind Shaxx and Ikora. The air in the space stilled. Everyone stood an turned their attention to the doors and the archway.

The music stopped, pause while Maestro sent the song out to the rest of his Ghost orchestra. An old Golden Age orchestral piece began. It filled the garden and the market with a slow but joyous and love filled melody.

Their ushers pulled the doors open wide.

Saint stepped through the curtain shrouded arch and everyone let out the breath they'd collectively held. Their attention was fixed on the titan, moving towards Osiris like a princess. He was practically floating towards him, smiling and blushing and his bright violet eyes were fixed on the old man.

The ball gown dress hugged his exo frame with same expert tailoring and bold lines that the suit had several life times ago. Osiris found himself several shades darker and lips suddenly very dry. Propriety was the only thing that kept him from marching down the aisle, grabbing the larger Exo by the hand and disappearing to their apartment (doors bared and an "out of office" set for everyone). Propriety and Eva Levant, she would have killed them both if they let all of her work go to waste publicly. It certainly wouldn't in private. Later.

He wondered for a moment, under Saint's intent gaze, if his husband had opted for a garter as well.

Worry clouded his gaze and Saint spoke, softly so only Osiris would hear him, "You look unwell my love. You're very red."

"No," he argued, shaking his head furiously. Linking hands with his husband Osiris elaborated, "No, I am struck by the fact that I have laid eyes upon the beautiful man in my life and he has yet again taken my breath away."

[littleshebear]

Destiny Fanfiction: Truth

Some self-indulgent Dawning-related fluff I wrote last year but never posted for whatever reason. Here’s a dark age, kinderguardian Zavala learning about the power of myth and stories, then teaching those lessons back to a Guardian Sasha.  

Commander Zavala | OC: Sasha | Zavala x OC | Zavala x Sasha | Mutual Pining | The Dawning | Anxious Ghosts | Gratuitous story-telling

Crunch!

“What are you doing?” 

Crunch!

Zavala trails behind Sasha, watching her bunny-hop through the snow outside the gathering hall. He had recommended they leave when Sasha had reached for her knife after the tenth or so suggestion that they get a room. 

“It’s really satisfying,” she replies, jumping onto another patch of virgin snow. Crunch!  “You should try it.” 

“Is it calming you down?” He cocks his head, smiling at the incongruity of a woman who can snipe three Fallen Vandals in as many seconds, playing in the snow like a child. 

She turns to face him, grinning brilliantly. “I wasn’t actually going to stab anyone, you know.” There’s a series of gratifying crunches as she hops towards him. “You worry too much.”

“I’m never sure when you’re joking.” He hazards reaching out and brushing the back of his fingers against her chill-flushed cheek. She doesn’t flinch or pull away, a fact he finds infinitely more pleasing than the sound of freshly-trodden snow. “It’s cold, you should get inside.”

“No,” she protests, taking his hand in hers. “I’m not tired yet. Come on.” She leads him back towards the festivities but eschews the main hall. The normally sterile winter air is alive with the scent of woodsmoke and roasting meat. They weave through the crowds until they reach one of a few braziers dotted around a larger bonfire. There’s a group of people gathered around the open air fires listening to Matushka hold court. Sasha warms her hands over the flames and smiles up at him. “There. I won’t freeze to death, happy now?”

“I just worry.” 

“We already established that,” she says with a chuckle. “It’s endearing." He looks sceptical so she adds, "Really.”

He nods towards the old woman. She speaks with a clear, ringing voice, in a language he doesn't understand. “What is she saying?”

“She’s telling stories.” Sasha smiles softly, unmistakable pride creeping into her expression. “Matushka knows them all. We lost so much during the Collapse but alot of our legends made it. The Fallen could burn as many archives as they liked but you can’t burn down an oral tradition. So long as there are storytellers, the stories will survive.”

“Which story is this?”

Sasha takes a moment to translate. “How Lake Baikal came to be. Well, one version of it, there are a few.”

“I thought it was seismic activity?”

“No!" She gives him a playful smack on the arm, before hedging. "Well yes. But no. It's an old, old legend. I’m no Matushka but I’ll do my best. So, Old Man Baikal had three hundred and thirty six sons and one-”

“Busy man, this Baikal.” 

“Shh!” She gives him another light tap on the arm. “He had three hundred and thirty six sons and one daughter, Angara. She was said to be the most beautiful woman in the world, so Baikal became jealous and cruel. He locked her away and refused to let her see anyone. She spent her days in loneliness and misery, the birds where her only contact with the outside world.” She paused to listen to Matushka speak for a while, before continuing. “One day, the birds brought her news of a young man named Yenisei who had heard of her plight. The birds carried messages between them and they fell in love.”

“Birds can’t talk.”

“It’s a myth, Luchik, work with me here. Suspend your disbelief.” She sighs to compose herself. “So. Yenisei came to rescue Angara and they managed to escape Westward. When Baikal realised Angara had fled he became enraged. He picked up a massive boulder and threw it at the young lovers to try and stop them.” The lake is shrouded in darkness but she knows exactly in which direction to point. “The Shaman Stone, that’s the rock he threw. It sits at the source of the River…" She expands her palm outwards in a revelatory gesture, "Angara! When Baikal realised he’d lost his daughter he wept and wept until his tears formed the lake.” 

Sasha falls silent again and rests her head on his shoulder as she listens to the end of the story. “That’s how Lake Baikal and the Shaman Stone came to be. And that’s why three hundred and thirty six rivers flow into Lake Baikal and only one, the Angara, flows out and merges with the river Yenisei.”

There’s an outbreak of murmurs and discussion from the gathered crowd as Matushka finishes the story. Zavala says nothing for a time, he just gazes into the flames in front of them. “I don’t understand,” he says, eventually. 

“What’s not to understand?” Sasha asks.

“Why do you still tell these stories? You know they’re not real. You know that these rivers and lakes happened because of tectonic plates, glaciers and what have you, not a possessive old man’s tears.” 

“Just because they’re not real, that doesn’t mean they’re not true.” She need not  to look at him to know that his brows are almost certainly knitting into a confused frown. “We don’t tell these stories because we literally believe them. They tell us things about ourselves. There are truths in myth.” 

“Very well, I’ll bite,” he says, putting his arm around her shoulders. “What’s the truth about an angry old lake spirit throwing rocks at his daughter and her lover?”

Sasha relaxes against him, drawing on his warmth as well as that of the fire. “Well, I think it tells you about what love really is.” Zavala holds his breath, hoping that she can’t feel how much he’s tensed up all of a sudden. “Yenisei loved Angara. He wanted her to be free but Baikal...” Sasha pauses, leaning into the embrace. “Baikal said he loved Angara, he claimed she was the most precious thing in the world to him but. Well, that’s just it. She was a thing to him. He kept her locked up like a jewel in a box. That’s not love. That’s possession. In trying to hold on to her, he lost her. Attachment like that, it’s…” She takes a deep, shuddering breath. “It’s not healthy. If you love someone, if you really love them, you have to be willing to let them go.”

Zavala closes his eyes and encircles her with his arms, as if to relieve her of the weight of the words she's just spoken. “You don’t need to do that, Sashenka. I meant what I said.”

She returns the hug, the way her fingers sink into the fur of his jerkin belying her words. “If you need to leave for the Traveler after the thaw, I won’t stop you.”

“I’m not leaving.” He plants a kiss on top of her head that seems to serve as a full stop. 

They stand in silence for a while, watching the fire and listening to voices that float over from the main gathering. Sasha eventually interrupts the quiet with a question. Zavala knows she’s trying to change the subject but he’s willing to let her. “Don’t you have stories? The Awoken, I mean. Aren’t there stories in the Reef, creation myths, tall tales?”

“There are, I guess but…” Zavala hedges. He guesses there are but he’s damned if he can remember any of them. “We left. Maybe our stories didn’t have enough truth to them.”

Sasha tips her head back to look up at him. “So make new ones.”

~*~*~*~*

“Zavala!” Izanami flitted around Zavala’s head like a gadfly, nudging his shoulder and purposefully blocking his view of his work. She wove left and right trying to lock his gaze with her optic. “It’s the first night of The Dawning, that’s enough now. You haven’t even looked at the Dawning Crystal, Ikora really outdid herself this year. The night shift is here. Everyone else has left, you’ve got no excuse...”

“The Dawning isn’t going anywhere, The Dawning can wait a few minutes while I finish up.” He replied, gently pushing her out of his way.

“We’re going to be late, Amanda will kill us.”

“First of all, we’re not going to be late and secondly Amanda will not-”

“She’s been working hard on this dinner, if we’re late she will literally kill us.”

Zavala pressed his lips into a thin line. “Literally? Words mean things, Izanami, you know I don’t like it when you do that.” The little AI’s shell was quivering with nervous energy. If he didn’t know that Ghosts didn’t eat, Zavala could swear she was hyped up on too much sugar from Dawning treats. Maybe it was psychosomatic? Could Ghosts pick up on the mood of over-excited humans? No matter, the root cause didn’t change the fact that she was actively delaying him rather than hurrying him along. 

“Let’s go!” She pleads, turning in an impatient pirouette.

“The more you pester, the longer this will take. You go on ahead, tell Amanda I will be there in twenty minutes.” He raises an eyebrow for emphasis. “Literally, twenty minutes.” 

“Fine.” His ghost turns to leave before abruptly turning back to face him. “But if you’re late and Amanda does kill you? I’m not rezzing you.”

“Thats a risk I shall have to take.” Zavala returned to his work with a wry shake of his head. It wasn’t just dotting i’s and crossing t’s in these missives to the Speaker. For his own peace of mind, he had to be sure the hand over to the Night Shift was properly handled and besides, there were Dawning-specific social niceties to think of. His conscience wouldn’t have allowed him to head off to a celebration without personally thanking each and every one of the staff who had volunteered to work over this festival. It was a selfless act and that was something that spoke to Zavala’s pride in his City like nothing else.

When he finally left, he decided to take a brief detour to take a look at the decorations around the Tower. As the Dawning Crystal hove into view when he ascended the steps to the plaza, he had to admit, Izanami was right. Ikora had outdone herself. A warm feeling bloomed in his chest as he took in the sight of the lanterns strung around the plaza and the snowfall filling in the footprints of raucous guardians armed with snowballs. He turned towards Traveler’s walk; the view from there during winter was always lovely and that area was less likely to be used as a snowball field of conflict. As he suspected, it was far quieter there. It was silent save for the sound of two feet jumping simultaneously into the snow over and over. He followed the sound to see who was making it.

Sashenka. No, he couldn’t call her that, not anymore. Hunter. Guardian. Those were the only appropriate names now. She was leaping, two feet together, from one unsullied patch of snow to another. She would occasionally pause to stamp down the snow into ice before moving on. He shouldn’t be there, he could practically hear his Ghost urging him to leave, telling him what a terrible, terrible idea it was to stay. Yet, there he was. Rooted to the spot, taking in every detail; How beautiful she looked bathed in the combination of lantern and Traveler light, the snowflakes settling on and standing out against her black hair, how similar she was to that woman he fell in love with centuries ago. How very discomfiting it was how often she challenged his assertion that Guardians were not the same people they were before they died. 

Sasha did a one-hundred-and-eighty degree turn. Her laugh when she stuck the landing was suddenly cut short when she saw Zavala watching her. She staggered to the side, spoiling the pattern of double footprints she’d left in the snow. She gave an awkward wave. 

“Evening, Commander.” 

Zavala responded with a respectful nod and crossed over to her. “Hunter. Enjoying your first Dawning?”

She shrugged and nodded a little too vigorously. “Uhm. Yes?”

He frowned at how unconvinced she sounded. “No plans for tonight?”

“My friends are having a party.”

“Your friends.” He held her gaze. “But not you.”

She exhaled slowly and seemed to deflate. “I’m just not feeling it.” The lines on Zavala's forehead deepened, signalling a demand for an explanation. “It’s not a real festival. It’s all made up.”

“Not real?” 

“It’s cherry-picked. It’s a hodge-podge of different cultures.” She bowed her head and looked up at him through apologetic eyelashes. “It seems fake to me.”

Zavala brushed some snow off a nearby bench and gestured for her to sit. 

“Did I say something wrong?” She asked, sinking down, her shoulders hunched up as far as they’ll go.

“No,” he said,settling on the bench beside her. “Just consider the possibility that just because something isn’t real, that doesn’t mean it isn’t true.” He paused to let her respond but her only answer  was knotted brows, so he continued. “Rites, rituals, festivals. They give structure and meaning to our lives. You don’t have to believe in the reality of the Dawning to believe in the truth of the message behind it.”

“Which is?” 

“How did you feel when you were first resurrected?”

“Scared. Lonely, I guess. Doesn’t everyone feel that way at first?”

“At first, yes. Being awoken, alone, without even the memory of who you once were to keep you company is a hard thing to bear. I know I felt adrift, with only my Ghost to keep me right.”

Sasha shook her head ruefully. “It’s hard to imagine you as a confused kinderguardian. You’re so-”

“- Choose your next words carefully,” he deadpanned.

“Stolid.” She grinned up at him, waiting for his reaction.

“All right. That’s an acceptable description.”

“Well I’m relieved, Commander,” she said, through soft laughter. “But what does this have to do with the Dawning?”

He smiled, allowing himself a modicum of pride in the fact that he can still make her laugh, stolid as he is. “I was scared, yes, lonely too but I found people. Made friends, formed connections. The same goes for the refugees who came to the Traveler and founded the City. The collapse was culturally devastating, so much was destroyed; Histories, languages, communities. We lost our stories, we lost those things that teach us about the world we live in. So we salvaged what we could and made new stories. We took what was true, what mattered and made new festivals to preserve them. We survived. We joined together and were stronger for it. We rebuilt. We are the light in the Darkness. That’s the story the Dawning tells. That’s what it’s for. So yes, it’s constructed. Made up, if you will.” 

“But it’s true. It's the City's truth. I get it.” She gave him a sly, sidelong glance.“So it’s not just about cookies and presents?”

“Well, no. A big part of the Dawning is about celebrating family and friendship. Cookies and presents help with that, I suppose. So go. Be with your friends. Eat drink, be merry, for tomorrow we fight.”

Sasha rose and vigorously shook her head, theatrically ridding her hair of the snowflakes that had settled there. “Wait.” She smoothed her hair out of her face and looked intently down at him. “You’re by yourself. Do you have somewhere to be? You can’t be spending the Dawning alone, not after that speech you just gave me.”

“I have somewhere to be,” He reassured her as he got to his feet.

“Oh. Well. Good.” She seemed relieved and perhaps a little disappointed too. Zavala couldn’t be sure but he wondered if she’d started forming an invitation in her head. He decided that was just egotistical wishful thinking on his part. It was safer that way. 

“Happy Dawning, Guardian,” he said with a respectful nod.

“You too, Commander.” She pivoted her foot as if turning to leave but the rest of her body didn’t follow suit. “And thank you.”

“For what?”

“You always know what to say.” She shrugged, as though that were completely obvious.

“I’ve had some very good teachers.” 

If Sasha were intimidated by the intensity of his gaze, she didn’t show it. She stared back at him for a not uncomfortable couple of seconds before finally blinking several times and looking away. She drew up her hood with a sheepish smile and a mumbled, “G’night.”

Zavala didn’t move. He watched her make her way down the path, waiting, hoping for her to grace him with another glance in his direction. Amanda Holliday’s amused drawl over his comm unit eventually distracted him from his vigil. 

“So your Ghost wanted me to tell you that you’re officially late, Commander.” 

“Are you going to kill me? She was at pains to tell me you would literally kill me if I were late.”

“Nah, you’re fine,” she explained. “You’re officially late, not Zavala-late.”

“What is Zavala-late?” he started ambling down the path once Sasha was finally out of sight.

“Half an hour after the official starting time. That lets you squeeze in all those one last, one last things you always have to get done before you leave work. So you’d better get down here before your Ghost has a nervous breakdown.”

“I’m on my way. I’ll see you soon.” He turned off his comm unit and halted where the path met a patch of snow-covered grass, deciding that he had one last, one last thing to do before he went to dinner. He regarded the pristine, gleaming expanse of white with a serious expression. He glanced around furtively, looking to make sure no one else had entered Traveler’s Walk. When he was sufficiently satisfied that he was alone, he put his feet together and bunny-hopped forwards onto the snow, chuckling softly to himself. 

[thedistantstorm]

Day 16: “Listen. No, really listen.”

Fandom: Destiny

Pairing: Zavala/Female Guardian

Warnings: PTSD, self-harm, canon-typical violence

-/

The door is locked when he enters. His Ghost works the mechanism for him with ease.

"That's funny," Adelaide, his Ghost informs him, "Miyu never locks the door. Maybe she's not home yet? She could be with Lilith-"

Zavala holds up a finger to silence her. "Do you hear that?"

She turns in the direction he's facing but does not run more than a preliminary scan. Quieter, she admits, "No, I don't."

"Listen." Adelaide shrugs her fins. "No, really listen."

Finally, she does. "It sounds like… scrubbing, almost? But, she's not doing dishes." They're in the entryway, leading to the kitchen. They can see the sink from there, no Miyu in front of it.

"Tamashii."

No answer. Guardian and Ghost share a look of concern. Zavala walks nearly silent through their flat, taking care to make sure his feet on the hardwood make some sound as he approaches.

It's not scrubbing that they heard. It's scratching.

The water is running in the washroom, some of it pink with blood. Miyu, his gentle, sweet Miyu is clawing at her arms, as if to flay off the skin there. Her Light glows bright across the damaged skin, but not to heal, as if she's trying to burn herself from the inside out.

Zavala swallows hard. "Oh, Miyu," He rumbles sadly, reaching for her.

The Warlock shrinks away, frustrated, terrified tears pouring down her face. "I can-" She scores her skin once more. "I can feel it. The Dark. It's on me and it won't go away."

Of course. She's spent the last three days in and around the Hellmouth. It lingers, Eris and Ikora say. Like a toxic miasma, or an aura, a shadow eclipsing the Light itself, clinging to her. He can feel it like an unpleasant tingle, but it's not like contagion, and not terribly strong. This lingering essence seems interested only in the party that has contracted it.

Naturally, there's a psychological aspect to it, too. These nightmares making what would normally be manageable for their kind into an insurmountable situation. Little rest, high stress, revisiting old traumas… Guardians may be immortal, but they retain their humanity. He cannot stress it enough. They endure so much, and yet they keep on. The cost to their mental health? It shows. Humans are not meant to live as long as they do, Light or not. And sometimes, all the coping mechanisms in the world don't make a speck of difference against the occult. Not alone.

"Miyu, stop," He urges, softly, taking care not to make her feel trapped. The washroom is small but he slides behind and around her, so that the door is not blocked off.

"I'm sorry," She says, fingers shaking, bloodied, as she pulls them away from her arms. "I just, I can't-"

"It's okay," He says, holding his arms open once more. "Come here."

"I can't," She shakes her head, voice rising in volume thanks to her frustration. "I have to get it off and it's not-!" Miyu slams her palms against the sink, not hard enough to break it, but the pipework rattles and blood spatters. It has to hurt, but she's already crying and carrying on, it likely doesn't make much difference. "I have to get it off me. I have to. I have to," She repeats, and the clawing begins again. Her Light surges but seems repelled, her internalization of her suffering doing her no favors.

Zavala cannot bear to watch. She'll shred herself to the bone at this rate, compelled to obsess over the obstruction of her Light by this cloying abyss. He wordlessly instructs Adelaide to report this behavior to Ikora. Certainly Miyu cannot be the only one suffering in such a way. Countless Guardians have been to Luna since the Hive began making their presence known.

When she begins bashing her wrists against the countertop he's forced to intervene, reaching from behind and pulling her arms away from her, hands wrapped around her blood-slicked wrists.

"Stop," He commands, but it's less authoritative. More frightened. She's frantically jerking her arms against his hold, trying to get free.

"Don't touch it," She begs. "I don't want it to get to you, too. I have to get it off of me and nothing is-"

"Miyu."

She still fights him, trying to pull away, even though it only hurts her more. She'll break her own arms trying to get free of him, he realizes. This obsessive behavior is sure to come with paranoia.

"I'm not strong enough," She sobs, pulsing with golden Light. "I can't burn it away and I have to. I have to make it stop. It feels like it's spreading-" It isn't, it's in her head. Most of this is in her head. He needs her to calm down, she's not being rational.

"Let me help you," He murmurs, voice low and soft, his cheek pressed against her hair. "Please."

"But-"

"Onegaishimasu, Beloved. Please. Allow me."

Miyu stops trying to resist his hold, looking at her arms and hands like they need to be removed from her being.

"Can Tamashii heal you?"

"I sent him away until everything was fixed. I don't want-" She chokes on a sob, "I don't want him to see me like this."

"Come out," Zavala says gaze pointed at the doorway. "I know you haven't gone far." She gasps through more sobs when her skittish companion hovers through the door, wilting at the damage she inflicted upon herself, but Zavala molds himself to her back, his voice a soothing rumble. "He's your partner. He wouldn't leave you, even if you asked him to." Blue eyes look up at the cyan optic. "Right?"

"Right," Tamashii agrees, voice dimmed by sadness. "Even if-"

Zavala nods. "I know," He says soothingly when they both flinch, Guardian and Ghost like two halves of the same soul. The physical injuries her Ghost can heal. The rest may very well remain in her mind regardless of his intervention. "It will be alright."

Red and white fins spin as he works, Miyu trembling while Tamashii casts beams of sweeping, healing Light over her wounds.

"That's all of it," He tells Zavala, and Miyu whimpers. "All that I can get," He revises.

"Thank you." Zavala casts him a gaze that says he'll handle the rest, and the Ghost disappears into a motes of Light.

"Am I crazy? I know things are-" She turns her head, red-rimmed eyes watching him. "They're making us all afraid and I-"

Zavala shushes her, wrapping his arms around her middle, careful to keep her hands at her side. "No. You are not crazy."

"Eris said she could smell it on me," Miyu admits, terrified. "I don't want it on me."

"Did you-"

"Three times," She takes a gulp of air. The shower stall is still wet, and he’s certain she’s scrubbed herself raw beneath her clothes. "Didn't help."

"Okay." He brings his hands to cover hers when they twitch. She's panicking, he knows the signs of a panic attack coming on. He needs to move her now, tangling together on the tiled floor is certainly not comfortable. "Let's sit down in the living room," He instructs.

"On... the couch?"

Zavala shakes his head. He sits with his back against the bottom part of it instead, and motions for her to sit on the floor between his parted legs, so that her back is to his front. She sits like an animal in a cage, slumped forward. He watches her scratch her left arm idly and reaches for her fingers lest she redo the damage that's been undone.

"Lean on me," He instructs. "It's alright. I've got you."

"I don't-"

He pulls her back against him, but doesn't force her still. She clenches her fists, trying to keep the afflicted parts of herself away from him."Trust me, please. I'm going to make it better."

"How?"

An inhale, deep, and disciplined is followed by a controlled exhale, Zavala repeating this several times. She doesn't have to look to know his eyes are closed; His forehead is pressed to her shoulder.

He is a rock. Grounding, centering. Or at least, he would be, if this weren't so disturbing to her. Instead, in the space between his breaths, he feels her panic and paranoia, and the urge to gather her up tightly against him. But she needs to see. To feel. To know.

It starts as a spark. A single strike of flint and steel inside his belly, before he allows it to curl outward.

"Did you know," Zavala begins, when her breath catches in her throat as it hits her, what he's doing, "That I am the only Vanguard mentor capable of wielding all three ability types?"

He lifts his hands from his thighs and holds them out, palms up, in front of her. His flame is a deeper, molten orange. Not sunny and yellow-white, like hers. Earthy and unwavering, like an eternal pilot light. A beacon.

Miyu shakes her head, breathing sharply in disbelief. Never, in all their time together, has he displayed this power to her. To anyone.

"Give me your hands, Anata," He murmurs against her ear. "Let me help."

The warmth he generates is unusual - with him, the Void is like mineral water and brisk, blessed clarity - but she feels emotion ensnared within these flames. This is sensual. Close. An extension of the soul, bright and kind and so very precious for him to be sharing.

She can't help but feel drawn to it, enchanted by it all around her. It feels like she's burning but it doesn't hurt, like it's her own Light, but it's not. It's patient and gentle, healing in a way hers could only hope to be.

Miyu's shaking fingertips brush his palms and she flinches, the prickling numbness of the latent Dark upon her desperately trying to retain feeling like pain until she presses her hands more firmly into his. He knows what he’s doing. Of course he does. He does not boast about it, but he is so much more versed in how to foster and protect one’s Light than he lets on.

"The Hive's magic is seeped in death, sorrow, and despair. They revel in our suffering," He reminds her, when she relaxes, finally, finally feeling like she's no longer under the malignant influence of the Hive. Her breaths still come fast, and thus he pulls their hands together, in a sort of pile across her lap. "We will defeat them with the opposite. Our Light will not waver. Not so long as we continue to celebrate life, find joy even in our darkest moments, and foster love."

She brings her knees up and leans to the side, curling up in the sanctuary of his embrace. It takes a long time for her breaths to even out, especially since she's still weeping, but he continues to manifest solar light, soothing her to her to the core.

It is not lost on him that her head stays pressed against his heartbeat, that her fingertips follow the patterns of aura across her fingers. Subconscious, half-aware gestures, a come-down from such a high-stress state. He’d expected as much, had seen it plenty of times before. After a long, long while, he hums in a wordless question and her arms come up and around his neck easily, their lips meeting in a gentle kiss as her Light -  angelic and reverent - washes over him in grateful praise.

“Thank you,” Miyu whispers against his lips, achingly fragile. She’s still unsteady when they rise together, but her eyes are clear. It will take a while to recenter herself, but he’ll be there the whole time.

[house-of-kells]

Regrets & Revelations

Part  1: Running with the Wrong Crew

Post Forsaken | Hurt and Comfort | Slight Angst | Redemption

Nine heaved a small sigh as she dangled her legs off of the maintenance scaffolding within the tower hangar, staring at the small, ovular coin resting in her hand, her synthetic eyes tracing over the gambit insignia engraved over the front.  two snakes, warring infinitely but inseparable from each other, a battle she now felt intimately. the drifter, someone she considered an... acquaintance, even looked up to perhaps, had offered her a chance to join his crew, and she had accepted, a spur of the moment decision really, but now, after hearing his stance, his opinions on ghosts, the traveler, the city, she was reviled.  Nine had thought of the drifter as some warrior, one of the warlords of the dark age, brimming with unbridled power, but she had been wrong.  he was nothing but a two-bit coward.

rising to her feet, she continued to glare down at the coin in her hand, before closing her fingers into a fist and throwing the coin out into the open air with a grunt, watching its green surface twinkle and shine as it descended out of sight into the city below.  after the coin had vanished, Nine let her legs give way, dropped her back heavily onto the steel grating beneath her.  her ghost, sol, shimmered into existence just above her shoulder, after the red war, it had gone into a vow of silence for the guardians lost in their fight, and had kept that vow adamantly.  reaching up slightly, Nine ran her hand across Sol’s smooth shell, picking and pulling slightly at the seams where the shell folded across itself, while sol tried to rotate it’s shell to keep the seams away, a small, simple game the two of them had made up to pass long, sleepless nights in the wilds.

while her fingers danced across sol’s shell, Nine allowed her mind to wander away, to what it would have been like should she have selected the vanguard, an option that felt more and more enticing by the second, she would have happily gone to Zavala, Ikora, Cayde’s picture, proudly showing off that she supported them.  she wouldn't have really done those things, but it was a pleasant thought.  

“Guardian?” 

Nine nearly jumped out of her skin, her artificial heart kicking itself into overdrive while her eyes ripped themselves off of the city, focusing on the vanguard commander standing nearby, she had been so lost in thought she hadn’t heard his approach, she scrambled to get up before the commander raised his hand in a calming motion. “I’m sorry guardian, I didn’t mean to startle you.” Nine nodded, sinking back down to the floor. “I don’t believe we’ve met properly.” the commander continued. “do you come to the tower often?” 

Nine shook her head no. “I’m out in the wilds most of the time, keeping tabs on the fallen movement near the EDZ most of the time now.” she probably didn’t need to say where she’d been, but she needed to say something, simply nodding or shaking her head would be an insult to the commander. Zavala took a step closer. “Is everything alright hunter?”  a simple question, but to Nine, it felt as though she were standing at the edge of a bottomless hole, afraid of what she might find at the bottom, if there was one.  

steeling her nerves, Nine shook her head. “No...” she didnt elaborate, better to be cautious than to give out everything at once.  her caution was rewarded by zavala taking another step forward. “Do you mind?” he asked patiently, gesturing to the floor next to her.  Nine shook her head, and mover her hand aside, allowing the commander to sit on the floor next to her, after getting comfortable, the commander gestured to her, offering her the chance to continue. 

taking a deep breath, Nine began. “I was offered a choice yesterday, by the drifter.”  she paused, waiting for his reaction; to his credit, he simply nodded.  “And?” he asked, patiently awaiting her response. “And I chose to side with him, I thought he was right, that a second collapse was coming, and I...” she paused, the familiar feeling of phantom tears welling in her eyes.  “And I panicked.  didn’t trust the vanguard to be able to do the unspeakable should the worst come to worst.”  she paused, glaring down at her hands. “The Unspeakable?” Zavala asked, she felt as though he knew already, but was making her say it. 

“Kill other Guardians...” it was a horrified whisper, her throat filling with the taste of bile, her absolute disgust in herself boiling over.  to his credit, zavala remained calm, reaching out and pressing a reassuring hand against the hunter’s shoulder.  “but now I regret that decision.” Nine continued, pushing past her intense feelings of vulnerability. “I want to support you, and Ikora.  I want to do justice to Cayde’s memory.” she paused, searching for the right words.  “I want to be a guardian.” 

Zavala’s hand stayed on her shoulder.  “Some of us walk the path of justice long before we encounter adversity, but there are others who have to see the vile side of humanity before choosing their path.” his voice was calm, confident, reassuring. “It doesn't make them wrong, or evil, simply unsure of themselves.”

Nine felt her nerves calm, and worked up enough courage to look the commander in the eye. “Even though I’m in the drifters crew.” she said, straining to keep her voice strong. “I’ll never be like him.  I don’t want to run and hide, while others die in my place.  I want to keep others safe.” Zavala gave her a kind smile, before rising and offering an outstretched hand.  Nine placed her hand into his, and with his assistance, rose to her feet. “and that want.” Zavala said “is what makes you a guardian.”  Nine nodded. “Ill try my hardest sir.” she said, giving him a traditional hunter’s salute. he right hand curling into a fist and placing itself atop her chestplate, directly over her heart, as she bowed her head. 

“I’m sure you will.” Said Zavala, and Nine felt her chest swell with excitement.  as Zavala strode away, Nine called after him. “I’ll see you starside sir!” he responded by waving to her as he turned to go down the stairs, a gesture Nine returned shyly, unused to being so forthright in her goodbyes, but there was something about Zavala that allowed her to speak very easily, she wondered why she hadn’t noticed it earlier, perhaps she had never really gotten a chance to talk to him, she’d have to try again sometime

[fireteam-survivor]

Not Judging

Sera x Zavala - Destiny Forsaken Spoilers - Short story - Set after the final encounter with Uldren Sov.

SPOILERS AHEAD!

-----

We sat in silence, neither one of us wanting me to be the first to speak, though I doubted very much we wanted to hear what the other had to say.

Did he suffer?

I almost jumped out my skin as Neptune looked to me, her question causing me to pause. Uldren had most definitely suffered, but at my hands?

He suffered enough. Riven saw to that.

I looked to Zavala who was just staring at his hands, I didn't want to say anything but I daren't create a Link in case he shut me out. He'd not wanted me to hunt Uldren down, he'd not wanted to run the risk of starting a war with the Reef...

But...

Uldren Sov had to pay.

"I'm not going to say I am happy he is dead. But I am not sad about it, nor will I lose sleep over it. I just. I need to know if you pulled the trigger Sera. Did you murder Uldren?" Zavala suddenly asked, now looking me dead in the eyes, his expression giving nothing away.

"Promise there will be no judgement. You won't hold what I tell you against me, you won't judge me for my weakness" I said, his expression sofrened and one of his hands came to rest on my knee.

"No judgement" he whispered and I took a deep breath in and a shaky breath out.

"Petra pulled the trigger..." I stated and I noticed Zavala relax a little at my words, his expression softened even more. "Though I was about to" I then added.

I expected Zavala to tense back up, remove his hand and move away from me. Though when he didn't, when his hand squeezed my knee and I felt him rest his forhead against my temple I opened my eyes and looked to him. His eyes were pretty much closed, though I could see tears running down his cheeks.

"I wish I didn't want to, but I wanted to put a bullet in that bastard. To make him pay for what he did to Cayde. To pay for the pain he caused. I should have been stronger, lowered my gun. He was dead either way..." I rather shakily stated, tears starting to form in my eyes and race down my cheeks.

"You are not weak Sera. You are strong. You are brave. You went after Uldren and you did what you had to whilst I... I stayed here and did nothing to avenge my friend. But the City. So many see it as an excuse and at times I wonder if it is..." Zavala muttered and I shook my head.

"NO! Don't you dare bring yourself down just because of a few harsh words from others. You have protected this city for as long as you have been in it! You helped make it what it is today and you have been through hell doing so. I may have only been around for attacks from a few Gods but in that time you've managed to hold this city together and rally the Guardians to defend it on multiple occasions. Something many admire about you, something Cayde admired! He would understand Zavala. He would not judge you for not going after Uldren, no one should. You have a duty to this city and you are a loyal and brave man. It takes bravery to go against your friends, especially at such an emotional time. And I am sorry I called you a coward before I left for the Tangled Shore. I was wrong, you are far from a coward and anyone who says otherwise can fight me" I rather sternly stated, Zavala chuckling at me as I finished my little rant.

"I miss him Sera, his... damned jokes, terrible plans that somehow worked and that damned chicken. You know it is still here right? Amanda looks after it now. I just wish I got to tell him what a good friend he was and how much I appreciated his support and honesty" Zavala sighed, tears still making their way down his cheeks.

"Love, he knew. Hunters know. He wouldn't have stuck around as long as he did if he didn't. Now... how about we have some food, pour a drink and toast to lost friends" I stated and Zavala nodded.

"And neither of us will judge how drunk the other gets" I added as I got up and went over to the kitchen, pulling the menu for the ramen place off the fridge and grabbing two glasses out the cupboard.

[phantomwarrior12]

Discussion

A/N: Per request of the lovely @guardian-diana​!  I hope you enjoy, hon! <3

----------------

They've talked this all out.

Around and around, searching for that thread that explains just why they cannot broach that last barrier.

Zavala's gaze is distant, fixated on a stack of datapads on his desk. Diana leans on the desk opposite him, propped against the sturdy metal as her gaze drifts along the room.

There are relics along the shelves. Fragments she recognizes from a lifetime long since past. Are they, too, in the past? A relic that cannot be preserved beneath the wear and tear of time? Their affections chipped away until it’s something like a memory they’ve clung to all this time?

He thought her dead, afterall. Another loss he could not prevent. Or perhaps he thinks of her absence now as a betrayal. An abandonment he truly did not deserve. She wonders the same thing; was she cruel to let him believe she’d died? To keep her distance and spare them both the complication of processing emotions long wrestled with?

“You came to discuss something else.” Commander Zavala begins softly, his voice holding a degree of uncertainty and dare she suggest, reluctance, as he leans forward. Elbows prop along the desktop as he folds his hands in front of him.

Diana’s head angles toward him, not quite daring enough to meet his gaze after such a lengthy discussion and yet, too forlorn as to not have him in her sight to some degree.

“I did.” She rises, pacing away a few steps toward the bookshelf closest to them. She reaches up, idly tracing a gloved finger along the lip of the shelf, “There were–”

Her voice falters when she senses him just behind her, his form impossibly close in such a large space. She hadn’t heard him rise, hadn’t noticed his footsteps until he was just behind her and her breath catches in her throat.

“Yes?” He questions gently, that same steady, resonating echo in his voice that she came to love all those years ago.

She clears her throat, forcing her focus back to the shelf, “There were reports of Fallen activity increasing in the EDZ. Devrim asked that I–" Her voice falters when Zavala moves to her side, forcing himself into her line of sight once more and she cannot veil the warmth that flashes in her eyes - nor does she want to.

"Whatever Devrim needs, the Vanguard can provide." He offers a gentle smile yet she can hear what he truly means.

Whatever you need, I'm here.

The instinct to take his hand, to step close and break that last barrier - it's almost overwhelming.

Instead, Diana inhales a slow, shaky breath and nods. "I'll need a fireteam," she somehow manages.

"Of course. I'll require a full debrief upon your return."

I want to see you again.

She nods, forcing a smile into place. "Yes, sir."

His head angles, a warm, amused sort of smile settling into place along his lips, "It is just the two of us here, Diana. Formalities aren't necessary."

"Commander–"

"Please," he interrupts gently, his smile faltering.

Some part of her insists she resist but his expression banishes that thought. She reaches out, grazing fingers along his gauntlet as she smiles, "Alright, Zavala."

There's a tension between them that seems to dissolve, faltering as the Commander works his fingers around hers and they share a smile.

It's a start.

Traveler, she wants it to be more but a start is all they can manage.

It takes a few moments for them to gather their wits about them and Diana has the sense to withdraw. Managing a farewell is harder than she'd like and she damn near backs toward the door as if Zavala would pounce if she turned her back. Yet, he remained where he was, smiling that gentle yet amused sort of smile she adores.

She doesn't hear much on her walk through the Tower. The fireteam meets her in the hanger and she forces her focus away from the Titan Vanguard.

They have a job to do now.

--------------------

He's at his desk - a new normal for him. Well, not as new as it is to her. So, there isn't a doubt in her mind that her Commander has neglected to find anything to eat at this hour.

Thankfully, she'd thought to stop at that ramen shop the Hunters speak so highly of - apparently it's open at all hours for Guardians - and she'd picked up something for the two of them.

The smell hits him first. A wafting scent of enticing sauce and meat that draws Zavala's gaze from his work.

There's a curiosity there, a confusion in his eyes until recognition dawns and he smiles.

"What–"

"I brought dinner," Diana supplies quickly, taking another few steps inside the office. "I thought you might be hungry and I just got back, so…" She holds it up hopefully with a smile that mirrors.

The Titan Vanguard's features soften, a warmth in his eyes as his head tilts. "That's very thoughtful."

She manages a sheepish shrug, gaze darting anywhere but to Zavala's features. "You often forgot to eat back then…some things never change, right?"

So many things she prays hasn't changed between them yet she can't bring herself to ask. But as Zavala rises, her mind snaps to and she moves to the couch, taking a seat quickly and starts to set out the food.

And then he's beside her.

Of course he'd have to sit next to her to reach the food. Of course he'd be within a few inches and his Light would flicker against her own - so familiar. It's comforting, in a way.

Nothing has changed, has it?

She still loves him.

Even with everything. His guilt over his family's loss. Her own guilt - she could never bring herself to ask him for something more. How could she ask him to let that go? How would that–

"Diana," his voice brushes the edge of her senses and sharp gold locks with vibrant blue.

She blinks, straightening her spine a fraction, "Yes?" It's a breathless whisper but he doesn't seem to mind.

He never minds, does he? Always so tender, so gentle with her that she often wonders if he thinks her delicate. As if he would somehow shatter her with a wrong word.

As she shattered him.

His hand settles over her own, drawing her mind from the depths of her guilt, "Are you alright?"

"Fine," she forces out, diverting her gaze but Zavala's hold tightens around her hand.

It's steadying almost. Another warm, gentle familiarity she'd like nothing more than to get lost in. Even so, Diana adjusts her hand, fitting her palm against his with a glint of wonder in her eyes.

Zavala leans in slightly, lifting their hands to hold them against his chest. His heartbeat is, unsurprisingly, steady while hers races.

Diana manages a breathless laugh, gaze still fixated on that point of contact. Clinging to it. Anchoring her mind in that moment because if she doesn't, she may drown.

"It's…been awhile since–"

"I've missed it, too." Her Commander smiles, tracing his thumb along hers.

"I…missed you more." She manages, willing her focus to his eyes.

There she finds a degree of surprise.

She realizes that was brash, impulsive. Everything she usually isn't but - she cannot stomach going another lifetime without Zavala at her side. Without at least knowing where they stand.

"The nights in the fortress. Patrols. Fighting at your side, Zavala, I've missed it all. But most of all, you. Your presence. Your voice. That irritatingly endearing look you give me." Diana leans in, "I am…so very sorry for how I left. For leaving that wound bare and subjecting you to that torment. I–"

Zavala's hand lifts in a silencing gesture and Diana feels as though she can't breathe.

The once spacious office is now increasingly closing in around her, stealing the very air from her lungs while she remains taut with something akin to fear.

Not of rejection…not this time. But - that somehow, her Titan will not forgive her.

That would be a fate worse than death.

When Zavala squeezes her hand, when he lifts it to his lips and she registers a tender brush against her knuckles? She wonders if any of this is real.

It's a dream. It must be. Because he should be telling her to leave. That they are irreparable. That she has done the unthink–

Zavala's lips are warm against her own. Gentle, coaxing and it takes a moment but at last, Diana’s mind settles. At last, she reciprocates the caress and her Commander gathers her close.

An arm around her waist, their hands bound between chest plates an instant longer before she lifts trembling fingers. Until they brush up along his jawline, tracing once familiar skin with a tenderness she'd thought she'd lost.

Until Zavala angles his head and the very thought of pulling away sounds like an eventuality she never wants to come to pass.

The food is left forgotten for a few fleeting moments as memories crash to the forefront and they are lost to touch and passion and…dare she suggest, affection.

This is all she could have ever wanted.

I love you.

It's a broken record in her mind but words she will not utter just yet. Not until things are completely mended.

But for now?

For now, just having him close is enough to warm her heart. For now, his Light sparking against her own is a haven all its own.

For now, this is enough.

Because there is no question of where they stand now.

Because Zavala's voice reverberates through her and she cannot imagine words that would bring her more joy than those he utters.

"I'm here, Diana. I always have been and I always will be."

She responds with a firm embrace. Just until she can breathe properly again. Diana clings to her Titan and suddenly, there is no world beyond his embrace.

She doesn't need anything more anyway.

He is more than enough.

He always has been.

And always will be.

---------------------

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[cayde-6]

Five people walk into the room, all of them wearing confusion on their faces.

"Atlas, Faire what is the meaning of this?" Osiris asks

Atlas looks at Faire who makes a face but takes a step back.

"We're both tired with how you five are acting and the way that things have been." Atlas replies

Saladin steps forward and asks. "What do you mean?"

"You five know damn well what we mean!" Faire snarls

Atlas places a hand on his friend's shoulder then looks at the five in front of him again. "First off Saladin you have to stop acting like a complete asshole towards everyone who doesn't want to act like this is the Dark Age, yes us younger Guardians are well aware what you guys went through back then but we demand that you respect our decisions with handling Caiatl and the Eliskni on Europa." Atlas answers

Saladin's eyes go wide, he opens his mouth to say something but closes it when Faire gives him a look.

"Zavala, Ikora will you two fucking get over yourselves already, Cayde would hate how distant you two are being with each other. Yes we understand you two loved him in your own way but he's been dead for almost four years now and you're both not moving on." Atlas looks at his Vanguard. "Zavala, you're acting like you're the only one who got hit with grief," he looks at Ikora. "Ikora I know you got Osiris back then suddenly lost Cayde but you have made zero effort with talking to Zavala, yes I understand he didn't want to avenge Cayde and how you talked to him was cruel. We just got out of a devastating war with the Red Legion where many helpless Guardians were slaughtered, he wasn't a coward for not going after Uldren because we couldn't afford losing more Guardians and you know damn well Cayde wouldn't want that."

Ikora's jaw is opened in shock while Zavala stands there quietly.

Faire snaps her head to Osiris. "As for you I'm sick of you being a fucking toxic boyfriend to Saint. Atlas went through time just to get him back for you and you've done nothing but be emotionally distant from him. Did you ever once stop to think about Saint's feelings, he loves you so much and you know it yet you still treat him like shit."

"I will not be talked to like this!" Osiris snaps

Faire grabs his arm and freezes his feet to the ground with Stasis. "Get fucking over it because we've given you time, I understand you've been hurt by Saint not objecting the Speaker's decision to exile you but that was a very long time ago and you need to get over it already.

You obviously love Saint but refuse to show it other than notes in his ship which are fucking half assed, like fucking walk your sorry ass across the Tower and talk to your boyfriend who is very worried about you. Stop fucking running away every time he wants you to talk, I get that if you stop and talked then you can't run away from what happened but that's a shitty coping mechanism."

Atlas looks at Saint. "You're not in the clear either, you need to know when to intervene in Osiris's reckless behavior. You can't stand by and hope Osiris will talk because you know he won't, especially now that Sagira is gone." He tells the exo

Saint nods but doesn't reply.

Faire snaps her fingers and the ice holding Osiris breaks. "If none of you start changing your attitudes then us younger Guardians will take over until you do. Also I will take Saint until you fucking behave Osiris." She says

Atlas and Faire walk out of the room leaving the five stunned.

"What just happened?" Saladin asks

"I believe this is the younger Guardians being tired of us and I can't disagree with them," Ikora replies with shame written across her face.

The five look at each other then break up. Osiris and Saint walk to a corner of the room while Zavala and Ikora do the same, Saladin walks out of the room to let the other four talk but he does think about what has been said to him.

[the-gunslock]

Amanda 1 - Forge

Alright, you all ain’t getting rid of me just yet... I still got some stories in store I want the world to see. This one is not about an anxious Warlock who likes Clint Eastwood... but rather, her partner in crime, our beloved, rough and tough Shipwright.

Amanda and Hiver went sightseeing after speaking to Petra in the Dreaming City. Even if she had another life to uncover, the human woman did her best efforts to reassure the Warlock that she is a wonderful person, and that it changed nothing of who she was now, and what she had done for the City and for her. After making sure her spirits were lifted, they part ways.

The shipwright sits at one of the safer rocks, away from the amount of enemies that plagued the lands around, whipping out her notebook. An idea rushed into her mind-- she couldn’t let it escape. Her lover’s words echoed in her ears.

“If someday I don’t come back, I want you two to take care of each other.”

The first piece was a reminder for Hiver that she belonged in the City. That she was a Stormcaller, that she was human first and foremost. That...

That she was unique. That she was Amanda’s safe space.

While she blushed and got entranced in thought, Hiver’s croquis and the information of the piece Amanda idealized were done. A duster, just like those in the pre-Golden Age western movies, they loved so much. But it had some add-ons that she thought Hiver was going to like.

Baby just designed her first Exotic!

She started sketching another one. A dirty little secret, she thought, grinning, as her pencil gave shape to the second humanoid figure on the paper.

Giving the finishing touches on the rough shape, making a mental note to finish it later, she puts her notebook away, looking at the horizon and sighing. Then she pulls her tablet, transmats into her jumpship, and starts typing a text message for when she arrived.

FROM: A. Holliday, Chief Shipwright

TO: Victor Crux; Feizel Lomar;

SUBJECT: Armor price estimation request.

The Titan’s fist wheezed near her face, so close that some of her burnt blonde hair strands were blown to the side from the gust of air it created. She manages to crouch under a second blow and launch a fist straight into the mighty man’s face, hitting him straight on the cheek.

“Well done, Holliday.” He complements. “You are learning fast.”

“Thank you, Commander.” She replies, wiping sweat off her face. “Can we take a break?”

He nods and they both sit in one of the gym’s benches, away from the mat they previously sparred on.

Commander Zavala was surprised, but pleased when his Ghost relayed Amanda’s message to him. It wasn’t one of her usual messages talking about parts for jumpships, budgeting or days off to spend with her girlfriend.

Rather, she asked for ‘sparring lessons’.

While he didn’t understand the meaning of such a sudden idea, he gladly agreed to help her. So, they set a schedule and place in one of the many training halls used to get Guardians to shape, or just when they want to show off.

Still didn’t explain why she decided to trade punches with one of the most notorious Titans in the history of the City. So, like his fighting style, he decided to be upfront about it. He looked at his protégé as she wiped her collarbone and neck with a towel.

“Holliday?”

“Sir?”

“Why did you ask for my assistance, so suddenly?” His stone-set expression betrayed some genuine curiosity. “Can you not count on Hiver to protect you?”

“That’s exactly why.”

“Hm.”

He took a swig from a water bottle, waiting for her to elaborate.

“Sure, she’s powerful, bein’ a Guardian and all, bein’ all ‘bout gunplay and Arc Light,” She makes exaggerated motions with her hands as she talks, specially finger guns. “But… we’re intelligent. And in that, I realized there may come a time where I can’t afford to be ‘protected’, or ‘saved’.”

Zavala listened intently, his memory calling back to those Lightless Guardians who died their final deaths during the Red War. Those he couldn’t save, even if he wanted to. And thus, he did not enjoy what was coming.

“If it does come, I want to be able to fight with her. Whether that means using mom’s shotty again, or killing stuff with one punch like you do. Or, even better… shielding my friends so no one would have to die.”

“Amanda.”

She knew exactly what came next. Amanda has had one lifetime. Zavala has had dozens, and in these dozens he had both found good things — and had a lot taken away from him. The prospect of losing his quasi-daughter to the Darkness’ brutal crusade weighed heavily on his mind, but he did his best to not let it show.

Didn’t work.

“I know, Zavala.”

She remembers, clear as sunrise, the day that the Red Legion laid siege to the City, and she had to fly through the biggest war she had ever witnessed, abandoning her home and its citizens to take Zavala to Titan.

Amanda’s tablet flickers its screen on. Crux/Lomar had just responded to her mail about her project. She had to remember to pay them later.

Her pride never recovered from abandoning everything she loved to save his and her own skin. So, next time that happens — if there ever is one — she wants to go out with a bang. In her own terms, beside the woman she loved, wielding the gun that saved her childhood, making her fellow Citizens and Guardians proud that someone else had joined the fight.

She wonders where Hiver was during that time.

Zavala snaps out of his own memories and notices her starting to get lost in thought, but they have a silent understanding. He smiles, rubbing a comforting, trusting hand on her back, and speaks his mind.

“Perhaps you’d make an excellent Guardian, Amanda.”

She smiles back.

“Let’s go another?” The shipwright proposes, cracking her hand bones and fantasizing about the next things she would do.

It is a dangerous path, but she treads it gladly.

Clearing her mind, they get into position as she raises her fists once more.

"PUT YOUR SOUL INTO IT, GUARDIAN!"

She was no Guardian, and was pretty unsure of how much soul she had left to put into it.

Not like that was going to stop the Titan's motivational booming anyway. Unlike Zavala, Shaxx personally made sure that training always got rougher, to the point one could barely discern it from real action.

Today, he had Amanda do rope climbing and swinging.

With weights on her torso, hands and feet.

She was doing well for the first routines, but made a slip on the seventh set, causing her to fall spectacularly on the soft foamy pads below. While recovering from the effort, the Shipwright did not expect to see Shaxx's hand hovering above her, offering help to rise up again.

"Thought you were all for bein' rough." She says as she grunts, making the heinous effort to get up, with his help.

"I am." He nods behind his helmet. "When needed. Being rough on the recruits does not mean I can't be generous to those in need." He starts taking the weights off the girl. "Part of being a Guardian, Amanda."

She makes a mental note of this. She had never thought of what makes a Guardian 'a Guardian'. From the stories she heard, the Traveler chose all kinds of people, from all backgrounds and all natures.

“How am I doing, Shaxx?” She asked, panting. He looked at her figure, her arms and trapezoids toned by years of mechanic work and her recent throwdowns with him and Zavala. But her most intriguing characteristics were her eyes, young but fierce, lit up a jeweled green with a newfound spark.

“You’d look much better with a sword.” He says, chuckling at his own joke. Amanda was bemused, but smiled to humor him anyway.

“Honestly? Let me just say that the Crucible would be a lot more interesting if those new Lights had half the force of will that you do.” He switches his tone to be gentler. It’s the way he has of conveying his honesty behind his helmet and many years of discipline. “We could have used someone like you in the City’s old battles, Amanda.”

“Thank ya.”

“However,” he shifts his once-positive speech into a firmer one. “I am sure Zavala has told you that, but remember. You have ONE life. Pick your battles. And when you do...” He pats her on the back. “Make sure you win, will you?”

She chuckles. “Of course.”

“Good.” He says, shifting to his usual ‘fists-in-waist’ posture. “That will be all for today. Those Crucible matches won’t oversee themselves.”

Amanda nods at him and picks up her bag with the training gear she’s been hoarding over the last weeks, ready to walk out and back home. Suddenly, an idea hits her. “Shaxx.”

“What is it?”

“Mind if I take you up on that sword offer?”

He lets out a booming laughter, proud to possibly have a disciple to pass his craftsmanship and tactics to. “Absolutely! Come by whenever!”

She gives him a thumbs-up and leaves the arena. On the way home, she checks her tablet and transfers the Glimmer to Crux/Lomar, eager for Hiver’s gift to be completed. She still needs to work on her “secret-project-she-doesn’t-have-a-name-for-yet” as well. While she enters Luminosity Heights, she ponders for a while, and opens up a new window on her tablet, patching through to “NS:L723”.

“I yearn for the day she’ll notice no one uses these numbers.”

Soon a streak of green appears on her screen, and her human companion turns to face her after talking to her Ghost. Apparently she is piloting her jumpship at the moment.

“Amanda? Wassup, what can I do ya for?”

“Hey Luna. Gotta little job for ya, if you’re interested. Just don’t tell Hiver yet.”

The Hunter looks to Frost, concerned but clearly interested in what Amanda had to say.

“I’m listening.”

[shaken-veil]

Happy Birthday @distant--storm. I made a small sketch of her Warlock Bean and Zavala... on his favorite spot..hehe... I hope you have an amazing day sweetie <3

[valkyriexpandora]

Here it is! The cutest lil baby girl with her Vanguard poppa <3 

any other request I should do :3 

@xcayde6 

@theisolatedsystem

[fireteam-survivor]

Sera was resurrected by Orion, her Ghost, in the canon location. However, her journey to the last city took longer as the ship crashed around 150 miles from the city.

It took Sera a little under four days to walk to the Last City. On the route she took, she was ambushed by Fallen twice and fell down an old mining shaft, which she climbed out of.

She died for the first time during the first ambush. When she was resurrected by Orion, she was violently sick. She asked Orion if it would be the same every time but he did not know.

She also died falling down the old mine shaft, she was very happy when she did not vomit upon being resurrected. Though, she did feel queasy.

When she eventually reached the Last City, she met Commander Zavala first who commends her on her strong will. Cayde walked in at that moment with Ikora, he commented that Hunters don't have a strong will, they are just stubborn.

Zavala would later learn that Sera was both strong-willed and stubborn, and he asked her to marry him anyway. But that is me jumping ahead.

how about another guardian oc question prompt 👀

how was your Guardian risen? did you go the canon route or did they wake elsewhere? how did it go? 👀